Clearly Now
by barefootbean
Summary: She never did get around to answering my question, but even without her words, I knew what she was planning. Fang and Vanille couldn't stay crystallized forever. But we couldn't wait forever, either.


**[A/N]:** I don't usually plan most what I write these days, and as a result, most of my works are rather impromptu and flawed. However, they are fun whimsical pieces to write, and I'd be thrilled to know if anyone enjoyed reading them. This is an older piece of mine, but I figured I'd share it anyway despite the quality. Reviews are always appreciated, and I hope you readers enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I hope to publish some more up-to-date works within the week.

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><p><strong>Crossroads<strong>

"Light... _are you scared?_"

It was a stupid question to begin with, but I felt if I didn't ask then, I wouldn't ever get a second chance.

We both knew it; we both knew the urgency behind what I emotion I was voicing—but despite all that my question contained, the truth simply of the matter was that some inquiries were better left unanswered—and as much as it bothered me, mine was one of them.

I gripped my arms a little tighter and tried to imagine that things were going to get better. Despite the idea, it was doomed to lend me no peace of mind. Looking out at the barren, craggy scape of Gran Pulse... the sun sinking below the horizon line... the crystallized Cocoon a mere speck of the wilderness that surrounded it... there was a wild beauty to it that I hadn't ever brought myself to acknowledge before. Considering the circumstances—it was hard to say there was anything even remarkably pleasant about Gran Pulse when you were the one looking up.

From Cocoon, everything had looked better.

It was ironic, because presently, I was imagining myself thriving off a land I had despised not so long ago. That I had the idiotic tendency to refer to as 'hell'. Taking in the full view and knowing that this was probably the happiest ending I was ever going to be granted... it wasn't near as bad as it could have been. Pulse wasn't so bad—that, or I was simply as pessimistic as I had once been. The idea was warming, but I doubted the thought would have pleased anyone else as much as it did myself. Maybe Lightning, but that was because I knew she cared.

Fang and Vanille were gone, but the rest of us... we had a future. Maybe not one I would have opted for, but it was there nonetheless. There, waiting for us. Waiting for me. Waiting for me to decide _what_ to do with it. Waiting for Lightning.

I still wasn't sure whether it was a path I wanted to take or not. But then again... between not having one and having something to follow... It was easy to say that I wasn't settling for either. Not an unfamiliar future, nor a worn road, because it didn't seem like either ever turned out well.

Maybe my present life wasn't as great as I had wished it to be—but I was alive, and the group was alive, and I couldn't really bring myself to complain aloud.

So my decision was this: if I perchance stumbled off the beaten path... and if there was no one to guide me back... I'd simply carve a new one. Like the Fal'Cie of Mah'Habara. Only, my path would be a bit clearer, because life was murky enough as it was.

And at least if anything took a turn for the worse, the only person at fault would be me. I could endure my own hardships—but carrying another persons' future like I had been? It was simply easier to look after myself. Maybe it was a simpler and less noble path... but, it was one that I knew I could rely on. It was one that _she'd_ relied on before.

With the world as it was... stability was _everything _and I really _was_ an idiot for not having seen it sooner. I wasn't blind, but obviously... I couldn't see anything in clarity anymore.

Mom was gone. And Dad? I had no idea where to even start.

"Light... are you scared?" I asked again, because I was certain that in my moments of idiocy, I'd completely lost her.

"Of what?" Her voice was rich, poignant, and I deliberately forced back the uncomfortable clenching in my stomach—something that occurred whenever she proved me wrong. Force of habit, I suppose it was. At the time, I really couldn't identify it.

"What happens next... the future..." I prompted.

A small smile, lips softly upturned towards the cloudless world above—where Cocoon should have been. Currently, it was just an empty splotch in a sea of blue... as though someone's child had gone through a scrapbook with scissors and cut every last image out of it, leaving nothing but a faint outline of what once was. It was hard to describe things from the outside looking in. But even harder when there was nothing left to base it on.

"Yeah... but that's only natural." Her voice was even, heavy with promises. "Give it a couple years and everything will have returned to normal. I'll see to it myself."

I was learning to take things with a grain of salt from her... maybe a bit slower than I should have been, but later was better than never—or that's how I justified it.

_She could mean anything by that... _I repeated it like a mantra—only, it wasn't worthy of being a sing-along. Not much was these days. Her promise didn't sing anything of happiness for herself; only for others.

Even by others standards, she was still seen as beyond selfless.

I eyed her tiredly—because my eyes hurt, but I wasn't so stupid as to know that she was reaching for something beyond her grasp. "But... what about your sister? I thought you were staying with Serah?"

"Heh. Well, that _was_ the plan."

"Not anymore?"

"...I have things that need taken care of. That's all," she finished softly. I wondered if her soft voice was supposed to offer reassurance for me—or to herself, for what she had in mind to do. Our gazes met for a split second, and I spit out the first words that came to mind.

"That's not very convincing. Even from _you_."

"If it was supposed to sound convincing," she replied tersely, flicking me on the forehead, "it would _have_. That is, if you acted your own damn age."

She wasn't lying, that much I could tell. Maybe withheld information from time to time... like she was doing now, her unwavering confidence a give away... but for the most part, truth was her prerogative, and lies something she'd been avoiding as much as I.

I can't say that's how it once was, because we both knew otherwise. Denial was the one thing we had in common, and everything else piled high in the gap of differences. Sometimes, I wondered if it would swallow us both.

But that was something I kept to myself.

I asked the question I'd been dreading, and kicked at a random patch of dry grass groping at my legs. It was irritating, but not near as much as her avoidance. "...Do you know where you want to go?" I questioned, and my throat ached from the dust in the air.

She hesitated. "Well, I have a lead, but... whether it's accurate or not it's still too soon to tell."

"Oh." I felt like an idiot, but she gave me one of her looks, and I knew she thought otherwise. A single glance, and I knew she was pondering my question in her head. With care, I hoped, because obviously, time wasn't in my control, but she was making it for me.

She planted a hand on her hip, and gave me a calculating look. "What about you, Hope? Plans for the future?"

I merely stared, hands in my pockets.

She said it so casually I really had to wonder. Was that sarcasm, or did she actually expect me to have an answer in mind?

"Uh... not yet?" I answered, and nearly kicked myself when her expression dispersed into nothing.

_No. I don't even have a clue. What IS there to do?_

It had never even crossed my mind. I hadn't expected to live as long as I had. And now? Even planning for tomorrow felt like too much effort. There was no point planning for a tomorrow I never thought would exist.

"Nothing?" Her eyebrow quirked in disbelief, and I kicked at the grass because it was proving to be annoying again. "I'd imagine you'd have something of interest..." She gave me her critical eye, but I'd grown so accustomed to it it did little more than make me wonder what she was _seeing _when she gave me that look.

I had the depicting feeling it was nothing but a masked casual glance from an esteemed figure, but why it mattered so much as it did – coming from _her_, _her_ opinion of me – I absolutely had no idea.

"Nah... I've just got a lot on my mind right now." Her face softened in one of those rare moments of affection, and for a minute, I wondered if it wouldn't have been best to simply speak the truth.

That I had a lot of plans. But I couldn't do them without her.

"...Alright... just don't over think yourself, okay? She ruffled my hair affectionately, in an offhanded gesture that I misinterpreted more times than not. "Take a break every once in a while... you're still a kid; enjoy it while you can." She smiled, walking off, away from me, and for some reason, I felt guilty for the first time since I'd tried to kill Snow. I watched at the grass tickled at her backside, but I wasn't really seeing anything.

She knew I didn't have an explicit path planned for the future. And she also knew that I didn't feel comfortable discussing it. So why would she have brought it up in the first place?

_Maybe I really am thinking too hard. Light's not one for hiding secrets, but she doesn't like talking very much..._

It wasn't until I glanced up and noticed that she was waiting at the base of the hill for me, watching with an odd expression that I'd never seen before against the backdrop of Cocoon's crystal pillar, that I realized two things that I hadn't caught before:

One, Light was rather smaller than she appeared–

And two—she had a natural knack for avoiding things when they weren't in her interest. Like now, her stance casual, and her arms crossed... her position guarding the aftermath of Cocoon's downfall.

It said she didn't care, but I knew better. I always knew better.

"Hope. You're not planning to stay there all afternoon, are you?" she called, and slowly, because the wheels were beginning to turn in my head, I hustled.

She never did get around to answering my question, but even without her words, I knew what she was planning.

Fang and Vanille couldn't stay crystallized forever. But we couldn't wait forever, either.


End file.
